


I'll Bring You Down with Me

by sherlocked221



Category: Rush (2013)
Genre: Drunk Sex, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 10:37:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15313662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlocked221/pseuds/sherlocked221
Summary: It's 1975 and what began as a healthy, mild rivalry between Niki Lauda and James Hunt has turned, for James, into a full blown obsession with beating Niki. After getting drunk with some other drivers, James gets tipped off to a way he might be able, not to become better than Niki, but tear the man down, bringing him to James' level.Aka, the one in which James wants to show Niki a really good time in bed to distract him from racing.





	I'll Bring You Down with Me

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the movie, not the 1976 F1 season or actual events. Not meant to be historically accurate.  
> Also I haven't checked over it, so if the writing is a little shit in places, apologies. I did write half of it at work!

“You know what?” Clay had said. And James was surprised. He didn’t usually speak to Clay. Clay didn’t usually talk directly to him. He assumed all Ferrari drivers, or any other driver, hated him. “He knows cars, but women?” Clay made a vague gesture with his hand. 

They were talking about Niki, discussing him in a hotel bar, the hotel where many of the drivers were staying for the next race. James, acting almost involuntarily, had Niki’s name at the tip of his tongue. He hadn’t meant to gravitate towards his Ferrari teammate, that was a happy accident, and, even better, Clay seemed willing to talk about him, having his own frustrations with him.

For James, the Austrian had become something of an obsession. It had began with wanting to beat him in races, wanting to bag a championship before him. Then it was more about understanding the man. Understand the man, understand how he could be considered a better driver, when James had all the right stuff. It became an obsession that moved past even that. James was intrigued by Niki and that had apparently built into an interest in prying information out of those who knew him better.

“He’s shit?”

“I don’t know.” Clay chuckled, sipping more beer from his half empty bottle that glinted in the low light, “He seems a bit shy. You know, doesn’t know how to talk to them. Got a bit flustered a couple of times when I mentioned sex.”

“Yeah, well anyone would get a bit flustered if you asked to fuck them.”

They laughed together. It was a strange feeling. James the F1 amatur joking with F1 senior figure Clay. Still, they could be forgiven. They were both drunk and in good spirits. Only problem was the conversation moved on too quickly. James was not able to filter his speech when sober, never mind when drunk. He couldn’t stop himself from making a joke which took away from the depth he was attempting to go. 

However, he’d learnt one thing. It sounded as though Clay believed Niki to be a bit innocent, shy when it came to sex. Ok, so he hadn’t exactly said that out-right, yet the tone of his voice, the way he tiptoed around the subject, chose his words, James thought it all added up. It intrigued him desperately.

And the more he thought about it, the more the idea morphed. It grew in his intoxicated, over-imaginative mind. He connected it to driving. Perhaps to be a good driver, you have to cut sex out of your life, hence why naive Niki was so good at driving. He had nothing else to pour his passions into save for the racing, nothing to occupy his mind. He wasn’t good with girls, he wasn’t distracted by them. Maybe it was James’ divided loyalties, his love of girls as much as cars, that took away his keen edge. 

James despaired for a moment. His team had suggested he settle down, calm down, focus on the racing and that had worked out  _ fantastically.  _ No the remedy wasn’t to give up sex. It was using his own skills to his advantage. 

He was known for two things. Clay himself had said one of them was his ability to ‘go all night and all day and all night again in bed, an immortal fuck.’ Even from those like Clay who had not witnessed first hand James’ passion, it was a known thing. And he may exclusively same himself for the girls, but he was willing, desperately willing to make an exception for Niki. He wanted to show Niki what a good time really was, break him down entirely, blunt his sharp edge, distract him, and he had the skills to do so.

Needless to say, he had not quite thought this through in the most logical manner, but that wouldn’t stop him. Without saying a word to the crowd of people around him, he stumbled out of the bar, forgetting his coat, and confidently strode towards Niki’s room. He knocked on the door, puffing out his newly built up chest- he had to stay in as best a state for the season.

As per usually, the smaller, ratty looking man was still clad in his overalls from his waist down when he came to the door. He looked up at James with a very familiar disapproving gaze, mixed here with confusion to see his rival on the doorstep of his hotel room.

“Hello Rat.” 

Still, he was not in his normal stale mood. Instead of bluntly dismissing the blond Brit, he practically welcomed him in, “Ah Hunt, come to the winner’s quarters, have you?”

“No.” James spat, taking Niki’s light-hearted disposition as an invitation to walk into his hotel room. He noted that, despite the small flicker of confusion in his rival's expression, he didn’t seem to mind James’ presence all too much. He watched, forgoing protest, as James took a seat on his immaculately made bed. James wondered, for a moment, if the strict Austrian could’ve been drunk himself to be so comfortable, but that was too sad an image; little, unfriendly Niki cracking open a couple of beers in the isolation of his private, slightly small, room. Niki may’ve been a good boy, going to bed early and behaving himself, but he wasn’t a total square.

“I’ve come to impart some of my own winner’s wisdom onto you.” James told him.

And Niki smirked back, amused, “Oh really. Remind me, who won the last race?”

Despite the subject of the previous race being a touchy one for the Brit, he didn’t seem fazed by it, refused to rise to the challenged. He smiled evilly instead, mind filling with far better challenges he could create. He felt he was mere minutes from breaking the man in front of him, breaking him down to a driver with faults, a driver who made errors, a racing driver whose life was equal parts sex and racing. He had the man in his grasp and that excited him to no end. 

“That’s because I made one little mistake.”

“You’re driving a Hesketh?” Niki scoffed. James remained strangely calm. Nothing Niki could say would undo him. Nothing could break his determination. 

“I didn’t have my breakfast.”

Involuntarily, Niki burst out in short laughter. Surely James was kidding. It sounded ridiculous. No one more than Niki believed keeping a structured, healthy lifestyle made him a better driver, and that did include three proper meals a day, but James didn’t believe that shit. He got to the race on the day, high and drunk, put his foot down and played chicken with everyone else. He didn’t do ‘healthy’ or ‘structured.’ He had to be joking. 

Only thing was, he didn’t look like he was. The smile on his face was not mocking. 

Cluelessly, Niki chuckled, “Oh, oh of course, most important meal of the day.”

“To champions, it is.” James insisted, “And I’m surprised you’ve been winning anything without yours.”

Niki’s brow creased. Was Hunt being serious? He was about to insist that, apparently unlike James, he had breakfast every morning, but was beaten to it by James explaining, as he got up and began to close on him;

“And I don’t mean the food sort.”

The Brit continued to approach his rival until he had him pushed up against the hotel room door. Niki was several inches shorter than James, who seemed to tower over him more than he ever had. But he doubted it was that which intimidated him, it was their bodies pressing against one another. 

He would not be intimidated, though. He craned his neck to meet his rivals eyes, to keep up the challenge he always presented. Not even the slightly uncomfortable, foreboding closeness would throw the Austrian. 

What did, however, was James’ next comment 

“The Breakfast of Champions, my dear rat, is sex. And according to rumour, you’re too good of a boy to do any of that.”

He felt his cheeks fill with colour. Embarrassment and frustration coursed through him, not because he was bothered by sex. It was knowing that James would see him shy at the lack of personal space. He enjoyed sex as much as the next man (unless the next man happened to be Hunt,) he just had a strange feeling about discussing it with a man whose face was not inches from his.

For James, this was added proof to Clay’s claim. Niki was a confident, competent, arrogant man who loved what he did. Yet he did not know how to make the most of every advantage presented by his career path. He was shy about sex, unlike James who, even at the prospect of fucking a man, threw himself into the idea with considerable enthusiasm. 

He even had a funny thought. ‘Niki should approve’ he considered, ‘since this is for business, not only for pleasure.’ 

‘Not at all for pleasure!’ he corrected himself. He would take no pleasure in fucking the Austrian cheat. This was and had to remain entirely to further his own odds. 

And he had to remind himself of that fact when he jolted forward to press a kiss on his rival’s mouth, not because he did not enjoy it and needed encouragement. No, it was due to the sudden satisfaction he felt, the fire it ignited unlike any other he’d felt before. It was as though his body, and maybe his mind, had needed this. 

Niki, on the other hand, was stunned into silence and compliance. James Hunt was kissing him? This was totally wrong, and had to be stopped. 

Only Niki had frozen. His natural reaction to any of James’ advances- granted never before had they been sexual- had been to push him away, but that response seemed to have broken a while back, practically as soon as he found himself sandwiched between the wall and James’ body. He believed at least he’d retain control of his lips, or mind, or something that could prevent this. Yet his reflex here was not only to become paralyzed, he was also kissing back. What kind of a fight or flight mechanism did he possess? He felt furious at himself. And the longer they kissed, the more Niki could see no reasonable way out of it. How could he explain his reciprocation? He may not have been a religious man, but he was fervently praying that James was too intoxicated to remember anything in the morning. He was also wishing he himself could forget the way in which James was rutting against him. It was obscene. It was humiliating. Mostly because Niki was probably liking it more than he should have. Once more, his body betrayed him. As James hardened against him, he was doing the same. He blushed even harder too. 

However, he could not let James win. He calmed himself, ignored the slight pleasure he was receiving and he rationalised the situation. He thought about it. He was getting so overwhelmed prior, he couldn’t actually think, hence why he was frozen. Once he took a breather, relaxed under James’ body, he noticed something. James was crushing his lips into Niki’s, he pried his tongue into his mouth and gracing his teeth against his lips. He was desperately grinding against him like a horny teenager.

If Niki didn’t know any better, he’d say that James was enjoying this. Even more than that, he was enjoying Niki’s unresponsiveness, overcompensating with asserting his aggressive dominance. And that made Niki smile. 

Having worked that out, he felt a lot better about reciprocating his kisses. He bet that shocked James a little. It hadn’t stopped him though, hadn’t broken his determination. Then Niki began to grind back too and James’ slowed. Once more, Niki reminded himself that James probably wouldn’t remember anything in the morning. And with that, he set about on his own mission.

Now, Niki may not have had the experience James had with sex, but it would be a lie to say he knew nothing. He was not unskilled, and granted he’d never had sex with a man before, but how different could it be. Skills were transferable. Niki knew how to pleasure himself. He assumed James would be into practically anything, being the first class man-slut he was. 

One thing James was not into, though, was Niki’s sudden calm demeanor. He enjoyed the shock, the stiffness of Niki dumbfounded. He felt he had the upper hand and his plan was working. He hated the feeling that perhaps Niki wasn’t quite the naive man he’d hoped he was. Without that, he felt his plan unravel. 

It couldn’t. He sought to shock Niki more. He let a hand slide between them and pressed it flat on Niki’s bare stomach. The man was reasonably fit. Thin, but fit. Of course he was. He trained relentlessly to be in shape for the season, more than James had probably ever bothered to do in his life. James felt the abs beneath his fingers, he stroked them. Niki immediately flinched. James chuckled into his mouth. He liked that control. He continued to slide his hand downwards, stopping only when it closed over the waistband of his overalls. 

Niki would not be daunted by it. The flinch was subconscious. He was sure James would do the same thing if he’d been touched unexpectedly. In fact, he decided to test that theory. Taking control of his hands, he reached up and thread his fingers through the gap between the buttons of his shirt. He managed to do so right above his navel. And sure enough, he felt his rival’s flesh jump beneath him. Niki kissed James with a smile. 

After that, it seemed all to be the both of them attempting to one up the other. As Niki began unbuttoning James’ shirt, James tore his overalls down. When James plamed Niki through his boxers, Niki got down on his knees, exposed James’ hardness and drew it into his mouth. 

That left James well and truly stunned. 

Even Niki paused, astonished at what he’d just done. Still, there was no going back. He wrapped a hand around the length he could not fit between his lips and he simultaneously sucked and stroked. Judging by James’ tossing his head of blond hair back, he believed he was doing quite well for someone who’d never done this before. He felt quite proud, even more so as James’ legs began to shake. They were slightly bent and shivering from the pleasure. Niki had expected James to be a little stronger than that, but he could not criticize. Not when his jaw started aching soon after he begun. 

Suddenly, he was stopped, almost to his delight. He had actually enjoyed sucking James off, and that was hardly a good thing. He didn’t want to get a taste for his rival, else he might not be able to hate him with such a passion.

James had basically gotten frustrated. He too was enjoying this far more than he should’ve. And he felt too out of control. So he pushed Niki down onto that ‘really good arse that can feel everything in a car’ of his and stormed over to Niki’s bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress just as he had when he’d come in, with his legs spread, trousers around his ankles, elbows on his knees. His eyes were fixated on Niki, who remained seated on the floor in front of him. 

“Come here.”

Niki tried to conceal his breathlessness, “What for?”

“What do you mean ‘what for?’” James didn’t even try to hide it. He could barely mock Niki’s accent he was breathing so heavily. But he didn’t care anymore. He saw a way of gaining control back. 

“I mean, crawl on your hands and knees over here and get your ratty little mouth around me again.”

Niki smirked, “You liked it that much? I must say, Hunt, you disappoint me. Resulting to begging.”

“I’m not begging. I’m telling.”

“And what if I say no?”

James sighed. Why would nothing go his way? Why would Niki not be complacent? Why was he not shy about sex? Clay had implied it. James had believed it to be true. Yet he was sitting opposite his rival, dick out and hard, already coated with saliva, and Niki did not bat an eyelid.

“Come here.” 

“No.”

“Niki.”

The Austrian scoffed, “Treating me like a child isn’t going to work.”

Almost falling into a desperate trap of whining ‘then what will?’ James bit his tongue and decided instead to get up, walk over to Niki and kneel beside him. James had skills he’d not yet used. He had to have something else to give. He was already feeling exhausted by Niki, exhausted and frustrated just as he often did at the end of races, and then he still often lost. Too often. He would not give up now, not when he should have all the advantage. 

Sitting beside Niki, he reached a hand up towards his rival’s temples. His fingers gently, though shaking with far too much energy, tucked strands of Niki’s soft, curly, brown hair behind his ear, exposing it so he could whisper directly into his mind. He leant forward, purposefully breathing heavily so Niki would feel his heat on him. 

That was it; James had tried too hard. He’d rushed things. He could hear Niki’s own breathing elevate, his eyes fixated on the part of James’ face still within his line of sight. It was the quietness, the sudden tenderness that had Niki nervous, and James bathed in it. 

“Do you know why I came here tonight?” The Brit whispered. 

“I really have no idea, Hunt.”

“I came here to show you a good time. You’re always going to bed early, working, busy. You never give yourself a moment to relax.”

“And you’re giving me that?” Niki sounded unconvinced. James, for once, didn’t mind his second-guessing. He gave a low chuckle.

“I know I’m not exactly the best candidate, but I’m known for my love of a good time, Niki. I’m known for my fucking.”

“Shouldn’t you want to be known for your skills on a track, as a racing driver?”

That made James smile. Of course Niki would say something like that. It just seemed to drive home everything James has thought. Niki was so good at racing because that was his whole life. He didn’t care much for sex. And James was going to make him care. 

Instead of replying, he pressed a more gentle, skillful kiss on Niki’s lips and gently added tongue, gently guided him backwards until he didn’t care when James clambered on top of him. Now, for sure, James had the upper hand. But he ignored that part of him that wished to assert his dominance in any way shape of form, to instead look at Niki like a girl, a girl he’d brought to his place and would woo with ease as he done so many times before. 

 

“Oh no, no.” 

“Niki!” James whined playfully. He had a tube of lotion in his hand, the top unscrewed and ready to squirt into James’ awaiting palm. 

“No, if we’re doing this, I get to have you.”

“That’s not…” James trailed off. He was about to say ‘that’s not how it’s supposed to work’ but that would bring up more questions than he had the energy to make up answers too. What he had meant was, in his head, that wasn’t how he’d planned it. Granted, he was winging it mostly, yet for at least several minutes he had imagined pressing down into Niki, feeling him tight around him, watching him squirm in pleasure.

And he was reluctant to give that up. He still needed some kind of power here. How could he do that from the bottom?

“James…” Niki’s voice had turned soft. It grasped James’ attention almost instantly, “Let me.”

Verbally, he couldn’t stand to agree. Quietly, he rocked back off Niki’s hips and sat on the carpet as Niki drew himself up. 

“Should we go to the bed?”

James got up onto his feet and padded towards the bed without looking back to see if Niki was following. He was, of course, close behind, and as James collapsed onto his back onto the mattress, Niki crept up on his knees between James’ spread legs. 

Strangely confidently, the Austrian squeezed a drop of the lotion onto his hand and doused his index finger in it. James watched intensely. He felt slightly… put out, if not frightened. He had never imagined this, never imagined it to feel good. The idea of having sex with a man was starting to dawn on him. When it was him on top, he had just thought he could close his eyes and imagine he was doing a girl, a girl with a deep Austrian accent and tight hole. Now, he could not ignore what this was. He tried to look away, but when he did, it stuck an uncomfortable note inside him. He wanted to see what was going on, what Niki had planned for him. He had to retain some control, and the best he could do was know what was going on at all times. 

Though he could not see Niki’s fingers as they lowered between his legs. He just felt something, something cold, pressing into a sensitive area. And it felt… good? 

He looked up at Niki. Was he getting off on this? Niki who never seemed to be enjoying himself. Niki who talked about nothing but work. Niki: The driver. Was he getting turned on by this. His gaze seemed to be firmly on his hands, watching careful what he was doing, but James could see the corners of his lips turned upwards. 

Was James winning?

As Niki pressed into James deeper, James let out a small ‘o.’ He felt Niki shift his weight. As Niki began to thrust his single finger in and out of his rival, James tossed his head back and groaned loud enough that the next rooms would probably be able to hear. Instead of worrying about being heard, Niki actually smiled. 

“More.” James begged. Oh it was obscene, humiliating, but the look on Niki’s face as he added another finger was worth it. He liked hearing James, so James insisted on being heard. 

The best part was when Niki had stretched the Brit as much as he could and lined himself up to press his member inside him. It hurt, but the pain was mixed with a heady dose of pleasure and James cried, “Niki!”

Because to Niki, this was his win. He had James squirming under him, begging, totally under his control. And it felt good to be inside him, but it felt even better to hear how much James was getting off on this. Neither man lasted a long time. Pleased with themselves, they climaxed, panting the other’s name and ending with a gentle kiss as Niki fell forward onto James’ chest, spent.

Niki felt a weight off his shoulders as he rolled beside his rival. He’d pent up such anger towards this man, such frustration. To be close to him in such a way, it calmed him. And to have sex, sex like that, the feeling of bliss, fatigue, peace, it assured him he’d have a good night’s sleep. After, of course, cleaning up the mess they’d made. Niki hopped off to the bathroom and brought back some tissues. He found himself the only one willing to clean up. James just seemed to lie in a trance, staring up at the ceiling. 

_ I’ve won! _ He thought. He couldn’t wait to get on the track. That was all he wanted. He wanted to see Niki fail, flail in his car as he remembered that night, craved another one. James imagined trying to over take Niki, and Niki making a mistake that allowed him to do so because he was too distracted thinking of what James had done to him the night before. 

He hardly heard Niki say, “You might as well sleep here tonight,” he was already drifting off, succumbing to dreams of a championship won and damn well earned. 


End file.
